


The White Dragoon

by Nanubi



Series: Eden [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Good versus Evil, Original Fiction, Original Universe, Other, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1623503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanubi/pseuds/Nanubi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The First Installment of my Eden Series.</p><p>An almost all-powerful warrior of light faces the greatest threat to his world anyone can remember. Against this heretical force of entropy, the only thing he can do is Hope.</p><p>M for violence, brief language, a single sex scene, and religious symbolism/undertones (if that bothers you.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

I can see this introduction easily surpassing 600 words. If you have no interest in the inspirations and backstory of my ideas, continue to the REAL chapter 1.

 

* * *

 

 

Eden seems like its own dimension to me. I first saw it in a dream, and the symbolism to my real world life was pretty clear.

 

I saw myself as a winged man in blindingly white armor, but i wasn't an angel. My wings were that of a Dragon's, with scaled, golden membranes that clinked and shone like coins. I had no weapons or shield; Hope wreathed my fists in white light, and faith protected me from anything that could possibly wish to harm me.

 

There was no single God, however, but dozens of Dragons that people prayed to, that took care of the world and nurtured its creatures. They each had one of eight elements (fire, water, earth, wind, light, darkness, ice, and lightning), and each element had eight facets, like lightning having lust and fire having anger.

 

The Dragon I served was named Cassiel, and He was the white archdragon of hope. His hoard was knowledge, thousands upon thousands of books and scrolls, and his breath was hope itself. He was the most beautiful thing i have ever laid eyes upon, with golden eyes that seemed alight with mischief and a positive, fun-loving attitude not unlike my own. 

 

But He was old. Millions of years old, and I knew somewhere deep down that he was dying. And if hope dies, what will happen to the world? He chatted with me, trying to make me listen to dirty limericks (you most likely know the one) and riddles. Even on his death bed, for that was what his hoard had become, he looked at the world with a smile and a joke.

 

But, as life often becomes, a serious note came upon him. There was a threat to Eden, and as an archdragon of light, it was his duty to battle it. But he was too old, too weak, so he sent me.

 

The threat was named Statica, a four headed hydra that stood for entropy and the unchanging. She was truly the largest thing i'd ever seen, big enough to wrap around the indianapolis-sized city she was attacking twice and still rear up until the clouds wreathed around her chins. She was arrogant, mean, and a heresy to this world my dreaming mind had created. She tried to seduce me onto her side, claiming that the Dragons were over, that the world would be perfect if change was eradicated.

 

But still, I hadn't lost hope. with a single flap of my wings I was level with her heads, and i told her the truth; that the Dragons would be forever and she was about to be tought a lesson.

 

Long story short, this great beast, so large that i should've cowered and plead for my life, was defeated. Change is required so we can grow, and i forced change onto the world.

 

My life as Ankh the White Dragoon continued. I married the daughter of the city's leader, a beautiful nord-like girl named Caida. Cassiel passed away, but named me archdragon in his stead. With my newfound powers, I gave my wife immortality so she could stay with me, and we ruled together from the treasure room in the great temple where Cassiel had lain. We had children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

 

It was a happy ever after, one that i'd love to have in the real world. But it was incredibly bittersweet, because i woke up. Dreams have to end, we can't live in fantasy forever.

 

I went about my day, but I just couldn't get Eden out of my head. It seemed that whenever i blinked Statica was striking at me, or Cassiel was reading me Poe, or Caida was laughing as she played with our children. This world had people, and their hearts beat just like mine did. With a lot of brainstorming with a few trustworthy people, I had the world down.

 

I've drawn maps on poster boards, I've written out plots, I've drawn characters, I've filled notebooks, but best of all I've managed to go back. Nights have become exciting, hoping that I'll see the next chapter in this world.

 

It has everything, from sunny days at the beach to nights battling daemons and horrors that Lovecraft could've dreamed up. It has people that love, laugh, live, and die. It's its own world, right there in my head.

 

My ultimate plan is to make it into something that millions of people can see. My dream is to become a game designer, to go to the Art Institute and give people something like the Elder Scrolls or Final Fantasy, something tha will last after I'm gone. Eden seems to me like it could be just that.

 

This series will hopefully go on and on, and someday become side quests and story lines for a game franchise. I would love nothing more than to be awake and still look at the characters I've come to love. Even Statica makes my heart swell, like she's my child. I created these things, and one day they _will_ be something more than one geek's escape from reality. Someday it'll be millions of geeks' escape.

 

* * *

 

 

There are many inspirations and people to thank for this, and hopefully I won't forget any.

 

Thank you to sam_moosechester and Tainted_by_Seven. You guys are great writers, even if Tainted hasn't put anything on the site yet. Hopefully he'll get on that.

 

Thank you to Troy for the brainstorming. You're a great help, and thank you so much for bearing with me as i rambled on and on about Dragons and Devils and Old Gods.

 

Thank you to Zachary Sneddon and Jamie Smith. Without you guys, I wouldn't have the interests I have today.

 

A big thanks to the Thursday Plainswalkers. You guys are great, and we sure have fun together. Thursdays are a blast now, thanks to you.

 

My inspirations are vast, so bear with me.

 

Thanks to Avenged Sevenfold, My Chemical Romance, Mumford and Sons, Breaking Benjamin, Killswitch Engage, Bo Burnham, Five Finger Death Punch, Disturbed, Jonathan Larson, Jeff Marx and Robert Lopez, the Violent Femmes, Sublime, Tori Amos, and the writers behind Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog. My Ipod is on shuffle while I sleep, so surely all of these bands, people, and musicals have a part in my dreams.

 

Thank you to Dave Arneson and Gary Gygax, Wizards of the Coast, Dark Summoner on IOS, The Elder Scrolls series and its creators, Final Fantasy and its creators, The people behind Dishonored, Notch and Jeb, George A. Romero, Capcom, and Hayao Miyazaki. The games and movies I play and watch are big inspirations to me.

 

Now we've done all that. My fingers are tired and my eyes are burning from using Google that much, but let's get on with it. The first REAL chapter will be up in a few hours. Wish me luck, and enjoy the ride.


	2. The REAL Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> +1 to you for each reference you get.

I have seen so much.

 

Worlds coming and going, armies defeating and being defeated, Gods rising and Devils falling.

 

I have seen birds made of metal hit towers made of crystal, to the shock of millions.

 

I have seen families of heroes die, and enemies of villains triumph.

 

I have seen the creation of horrible metal creatures, that boom with thunder and destroy buildings and lives hundreds of thousands of miles away.

 

I have seen a single hero raise what was supposed to be the destroyer of worlds, only to ride upon its back to save them.

 

I have seen so far into the future that the only thing left is war, where a single man has become a god and all who oppose him are crushed beneath the boots of men four times the size they should be.

 

I have seen men driven mad by the call of a horrific creature that shouldn't exist.

 

I have seen so much.

 

I have no worshippers; I am no god. I have no one who loves me, for no one knows me. I have no hands, yet I have shaped a single world with as much love and care as I can.

 

No one in this world knows I exist. They go about their days, raising their children and tending their fields, oblivious to the fact that, should my attention stray, they would be lost forever.

 

I am fickle. My attentions fall from thing to thing quickly. A small attention span and multiple diagnoses force my mind's eye from idea to idea, from Illithids to Sneevils to Kishin and back.

 

But this world I crafted, from the bellowing forge of my imagination, persists. Days of hammering and folding and heating and cooling, over and over until blades were razor thin and mail was chained lovingly together, bit by bit, weld by weld.

 

Arrows were fletched, leather was tanned, families were created. Dragons were born, bellowing in their elemental breath as they clawed their way out of whatever served as their womb.

 

In the beginning...there were four.

 

That simple sentence created a lore so rich as to defy anything else I've ever crafted.

 

Four Dragons, so large as to rival the sun, spun in a loving dance that slowly created, from nothing, an entire plane of existence.

 

Two we have lost, though not physically or spiritually. These unnamed still fly, but backwards, creating energies best left untouched.

 

It is the forward facing of the four that we know. Yahweh, the One Great White Dragon, destroyer of evil, benevolent face of Law itself, flies endlessly along the prime meridian of the universe. He keeps the elements of the right handed path (water, wind, light, and lightning) in a perfect recycling state, taking used up elements of the right path and creating new things from them.

 

And then there is Lucifel, The Only Great Black Dragon, Betrayer of the One, evil claw of Chaos, who flies along the equator of the universe. He is of the left handed path, keeping fire, earth, darkness, and ice alive. These elements aren't recycled, however. The left path is pure power, and these elements never die; they just grow in their bloated strength. As time goes by, the left path grows more powerful, until that fateful day when _Unef 'fakal_ (Black Day) crushes the universe under the left side's power.

 

These two we remember, but the others, those of the backwards path, fly in a chaotic, random movement that has no name. The backwards paths are unnatural, having power over magicks that have been lost to the memories of even the Dragons...and for good reason. These two have a part in this universe, but not for a time.

 

The other dragons were born from the loving union of light and dark, water and fire, ice and lightning, Yahweh and Lucifel. Their embrace over the universe birthed many dragons, of many elements and facets of elements.

 

_This_ tale is about one such dragon, The White Archdragon of Hope, Cassiel. He is so very old, one of the first, and lay dying in the temple of Light. His loyal follower, the White Dragoon, Ankh, frantically cares for his master as he slowly leaks _Mana,_ the lifeblood of the universe, into the world around him.

 

There is one last task for the Great Archdragon, but he is too weak.

 

And so this has become a test, for whoever takes the mantle of an ARchdragon becomes one, and Ankh has been gifted that mantle to slay the greatest threat to Eden since anyone can ever remember...


	3. A Council of Dragons

There were eight.

 

Of course, there had  _always_ been eight, but these eight were chosen. Flame and water, earth and wind, light and darkness, cold and storm, all sitting in a perfect circle in a plane made of nothing.

 

The grestest of the eight at the moment, the great red dragon of vengeance, Cain, stood tall in his selfish pride. His body was wreathed in an angry light the color of blood, his eyes flaring with twin supernovas. His gullet glowed as if the flames of creation were about to flare forth, eradicating anything in its way.

 

The others were silent, bowing before his waxing power. Chief among those seven that bowed were Sol, the great white dragon of law, and Luna, great black dragon of chaos. They stood next to each other, not touching but close enough to show that they stood together.

 

The others were less important except for one. Cain's brother, the great blue dragon of faith, Abel. He laid awkwardly because of his injuries, given to him by Yahweh and Lucifel themselves. His back and front left limbs were gone, just blackened, still smoking stumps. Looking upon the glory of creation, even if a dragon is the one observing, has its price.

 

"We look upon you, Cain." Sol spoke first, claws the size of continents lightly clutching the disc of void he stood upon. "The council is together, and bows before your gaze."

 

Cain slowly breathed out, his breath becoming waves of pure heat untouched by any other element, hot enough to melt suns and force stars to explode.

 

"I accept your words, Sol." Cain's voice was the rumble of an exploding volcano, his cadence crackling like flame. The seven bowed again at the power in his voice, awe and hope of their turn mixing in their stances.

 

"This council comes together under the words of our brother, the great white one, Cassiel." Luna spoke, her voice soft and slippery as shadow. "He spoke to me in...in his weakness. He wishes to...tell us of his last meeting."

 

Sol let out a barely audible keen, a sound of grieving for a brother. Luna just barely brushed his flank with her tail, a rare showing of affection from the often unreachable dragon of chaos.

 

"We bow to his words, to a brother older than most." Cain rumbled, and all eight bowed their heads in a moment of perfect balance. Somewhere, far out in the planes of existence, an entire universe burst into existence, eight elements and sixty-four facets coming together in a moment of passion and solidarity.

 

"What are the words of our brother?" Abel's voice was a ragged, pain filled whisper, and he shifted uncomfortably as he leaned on his tail and one remaining limb. Cain barely inclined his head to his brother, a normally forbidden act by the waxing dragon. There were only four things Cain respected; His brother, the creators, and his element. In that order.

 

"Cassiel speaks in his last moments. He wishes for his dragoon to surpass him upon his reincarnation."

 

Silence.

 

For almost 30 years in a mortal's time, though that seemed like seconds for the ageless gods that stood in their own personal plane of existence.

 

"He knows that has never come to pass." Cain said. "Few dragon's have had the gall to ask."

 

"If any deserve that wish, it is Cassiel." Sol growled. "He is one of the first."

 

"As am I, yet I would never ask such a thing." Cain snarled, tail whipping in his divine wrath.

 

"My brother, Cassiel cares for his follower more than any dragon has." Abel whispered. "They have a relationship not unlike two dragons...and something will come to pass that may prove his worth."

 

"You mean the Unchanging." Cain hissed. Luna and Gaea, the great brown dragon of motherly love, shrunk a bit at the council's displeasure.

 

"She slinks from her cave, ready to march upon Eden." Abel said softly, wincing as he shifted again.

 

"I place no blame, but I would speak with the Unchanging's creators after this meeting." Cain said unhappily. The council bowed to his wishes.

 

"There are two possibilities to the Unchanging's march." Lilit, the great magenta dragon of desire, spoke up, voice as soft and shapely as she was. "Either Cassiel's follower slays her and becomes dragon, or the Unchanging forces us all away from our world."

 

Cain hissed viciously, flames flickering around his fangs. "I would use my power to melt the flesh from her bones."

 

"Even you have no right to do that, brother." Abel muttered. "It is not our place to intervene upon this. We must wait until that time comes. When  _he_ rises."

 

" _He_ will not rise for an eternity, yet." Cain snapped. " I have trouble believing I will be waxing by then." _  
_

 

"Abel is correct. It is not our place to act." Sol said. " We must let the White Dragoon act for us."

 

"I ask that we send him a vision while he rests." Luna said softly. "He must be shown what is to happen."

 

"I agree. But who will send him this vision? Who may take that honor?" Sol glared at his opposite, and she looked away guiltily.

 

A soft wind blew through the plane, followed by a whisper that even the dragons couldn't hear.

 

"A sign." Ventus, the green dragon of swift action, spoke up for the first time. "I will send the dream."

 

" _Gratias agimas et benignum auctores uno patria. Nominibus nostris."_  The dragons spoke in unison, their voices a prayer.

 

"It is decided." Cain spoke, and the seven bowed their heads to his decision. "Ventus shall give the White Dragoon the vision of the Unchanging. But this vision will be vague and swift as the wind itself. It is up to the follower to become one who deserves to be followed. And, upon his success, the White dragoon will walk Eden as one of us."

 

" _Nominibus nostres."_  The Dragons whispered, swinging their tails in a circle.

 

"If the follower fails in his quest, and the Unchanging stands undefeated...then I will allow a chosen of our fathers to smite the daemon where she stands."

 

" _Nominibus nostres."_

 

"This council is adjourned. Let us return to Eden, under the watchful eyes of our fathers." Cain dissipated in a burst of violent flame, and one after the other his siblings followed him.

 

In the empty plane, a playful wind blew, happy and free. A small meteor made of stone and soil joined it, and they flew in perfect harmony.

 

Four eyes, eyes that were older than anything, watched Eden carefully. The right pair, the color of sunshine, crinkled in a smile, while the left, the color of the void between stars, furrowed into a pleased frown.

 

The fathers of Eden spun in their passionate dance, creating and recycling over and over, while the mysterious force that created  _them_ continued to dream...


End file.
